A Couple of Hours
by Fat Puppy
Summary: Early in Season 14 after Dean has returned, Sam needs a break from being 'Chief'.


TITLE: A Couple of Hours

FANDOM: Supernatural

SUMMARY: Early in Season 14 after Dean has returned, Sam needs a break from being 'Chief'.

* * *

"That bad, huh?"

Sam lifted his head, eyes squinting at the increased lighting. Dean noticed immediately and unflipped the switch he'd just flipped upon entering the room.

"Sorry. Here." A small bottle of pills and a glass of water landed in Sam's hand. "The strongest we've got. Take two."

"Dean."

"Don't Dean me. Yes, these will knock you out. Yes, they will force you to sleep. You need a break, Sam. Even if it's just a couple hours. Come on, take 'em."

Reaching for his phone, Sam's hand was too slow. His brother reached it first.

"Ah ah! No! I already put that Riley woman in charge. She'll do fine."

"No, I need...they need..." Sam began, pushing himself up from the reclined position in the Lazy-Boy chair.

"_They_ will be fine. _You_ are not. And I'm not leavin' this room til you are sound asleep on your ass." Dean grabbed the hastily discarded pill bottle and smacked back it into Sam's grasp. Sam made no move to pop the top as Dean rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"Don't push me, Sam. Okay? You can't keep goin' like this. You can't. So, before someone...before _you_ get hurt or suffer a complete breakdown...humor your big brother."

Sam sighed and set his head back, not having the energy to battle that big brother right now. He even allowed Dean to take the bottle, pour out the pills and set the water glass in his other hand.

"Swallow and drink the whole thing."

Dean watched intently until he was comfortable that Sam had taken the drugs and emptied the glass.

"Good boy. Now let the meds work." Kicking back in his own Lazy-Boy chair, Dean turned on the TV, pausing briefly on a movie channel showing Friday the 13th.

"Dean," Sam said, immediately protesting.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Eventually, Dean settled on a baseball game. Baseball tended to have the same effect on Sam as soft rock radio and sure enough within a few minutes Sam's eyes started that inevitable battle between the conscious and the unconscious.

"Don't fight it, Sammy. They'll be okay without you."

"I promised them..."

"I know you did. You promised that you'd teach them everything they needed to say safe and be good hunters. And you've done a hell of a job so far, but Sam, you can't teach a lifetime of hunting in a month. And you can't keep up this pace or you'll be no good to anyone. If you get yourself killed because you needed a damned nap, I will personally kill you again. Got it?"

Sam's head lolled to the side, Dean swaying in his blurring view.

"Close your eyes, Sammy."

"Couple'a hours is all, D'n."

"Yeah, Yeah, whatever. Just sleep, will ya?"

He did. Finally. A few knocks came and went at the door. Sam's apocalypse hunters-in-training looking for him probably. The fifth time it happened, the knock was persistent. Dean calmed his temper for a few seconds before opening the door. One of those wannabe hunters. Male. Dark hair. Medium. Boring. Forgettable. Dean shook himself out of the thoughts.

"Hey there, um...". He raised an eyebrow in question. Sam probably would've known the guy's name by the sound and tone of the knock, but Dean had no clue what this random person called himself, nor did he really care.

"Oh hey, I'm um, Derek. Hi. We're looking for the Chief. Have you seen him?"

The Chief. That ridiculous title was still ridiculous, but Dean managed not to roll eyes or smirk as 'Derek' stuck his head into the room and caught sight of Sam's sleeping form on the chair.

"Oh, there he is...I need to..."

A strong arm thwarted his entry attempt. "You need nothing from him right now. Okay? Unless the bunker is burning down and we're all about to be flam bayed...The uh...Chief...Sam...is taking a break."

"Yeah, but..."

"But nothing. Maybe Sam was boss around here while I was gone, but now that I'm back, someone needs to make sure he doesn't push himself beyond limits. I am that someone. So, you'll have to handle things without him for a couple'a hours. Yes?"

"We only need to ask..."

"Nothing. You need to ask nothing. Sam is out of commission for the next two hours at least."

"Just need him to approve...". Derek tried again to advance through the door.

Dean moved him back, a bit more forcefully this time. "Derek. Final warning, man. Sam is off limits for now. Please don't test me again, okay?"

He'd stayed calm and kept his tone neutral enough, but something in the older Winchester's eyes started Derek retreating several steps and stumbling over his words.

"Yeah, um, okay, Right. Sorry, uh Mr. Winchester. I um...I'll leave him be for a couple hours."

"Two. At least. But he'll be out when he's rested. Tell the others that this room is off limits for all of you. If Sam is here, it's because he needs a break. I will make sure he gets that. He tells me you've all done good work. Trust me, you are learning from the best, but he's not a damn machine no matter what he lets you to believe. Got it?"

"Yes, right. Got it. I will pass that along. Thank you."

Derek scooted off. Dean smiled, claiming victory at instilling a bit of fear into the kid. Looking back into the room, he saw his little brother still sound asleep. Even a soft snore reverberating. The sweet sound of success.

By some unnatural internal clock and defying the power of the drugs, Sam woke just over two hours later and took less than sixty seconds to get up moving back into his leadership role. Dean let him go, but followed a few shadowed steps behind...and he saw. Saw the change in the young hunters in how they worked around their 'Chief'. There was a bit more room. A bit more distance. A bit less crowding with flooding questions. And when Dean entered, the cushion around Sam deepened further; becoming a well-defined organization when it came to addressing questions and getting advice from Sam. Things seemed different. Clearly, Derek had been talking. Good or bad, Dean could've cared less. He never worried what others thought of him; how they treated him. But he did care about how those same people treated Sam. His little brother worked his ass off in everything he ever did. Never once did he go into something at less than a hundred percent. This crew of hunters-in-training had no choice now but to respect the dedication and to return that same respect.

Later that day, Derek even offered to man the phones for a couple of hours if Sam wanted to take a break. Sam declined, of course, but Dean did flash a nod of approval Derek's way at the gesture.

Dean couldn't do what Sam was doing. He hadn't the patience or the will. But Sam had done what he'd needed to do to survive when Michael had taken his brother. He'd functioned and survived by pushing himself to the extreme. The busier he stayed, the less chance of the realization that Dean could be lost forever, could stick in his mind. Somehow, he had managed to keep that consuming pace until Dean found his way back and into the pattern he knew so well...protecting his little brother.

"Sammy, let's take a break," Dean said to him the following afternoon. And this time, there was zero resistance. Putting Riley in charge again, Sam made his way to the TV room. Finding his spot in the recliner, he melded in quickly. Dean found an old black and white movie on TV and relaxed into his own chair. He didn't have to be there. Not this time. None of the hunters would disturb Sam now. But Dean didn't get much time with his brother since he'd come back; things were so hectic and crazy...so this was their downtime. A couple of hours a day to unwind, escape and relax, even if he was asleep in two minutes flat.

It was still the time together they needed.

A couple of hours and they'd be okay.

* * *

The End


End file.
